


A Family Matter

by Mighty_Ant



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Adoption, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Mention Of Homophobia, Trans Darkwing Duck | Drake Mallard, Trans Male Character, Trick question they're both terrible, Who would make a better cereal brand Scrooge or Glomgold?, background drakepad, mention of transphobia, tis the season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 12:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mighty_Ant/pseuds/Mighty_Ant
Summary: Drake told Gosalyn he didn't have any other family.It wasn't technically a lie.
Relationships: Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 11
Kudos: 287





	A Family Matter

“Listen, I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Drake says one morning at breakfast, setting down the cereal box he’d been blankly staring at the back of (on that note, Glomgold-O’s has enough sugar per serving to melt plastic, and it may be time to switch back to McDuck Golden Oats, More Oats Less Gold). 

“I knew it,” Gosalyn replies, leaning back in her seat with a grave expression. “I’m adopted.”

“You’re hilarious, sweetie,” Drake says as he stands up to retrieve the coffee pot and top off his mug, definitely not because he’s stalling. “No, I…” he finds it’s easier to keep his back turned for this part, looking down at the swirling surface of his coffee as he stirs in cream and sugar. “Do you remember a while back when you asked about my family? When I told you we’d be spending HanukkChristmas with Launchpad and the McDucks?”

“Yeah…?” Gosalyn says, dragging out the word. When he glances over his shoulder he sees her with her tongue sticking out the side of her beak, concentrating hard on scooping up all the remaining Glomgold-O’s in her bowl at once. “You said they died in a freak skiing accident,” she adds absently. 

Drake remains silent, taking a long sip of his coffee. He taps against the side of the mug for several seconds. 

“Waaiiit a minute,” Gosalyn says in a tone of dawning realization. “That was a lie, wasn’t it!”

He turns back around already wincing. “Yyyeah. I’m sorry, Gos, but when you asked me I sorta, well...panicked.”

Gosalyn slumps violently in her seat, arms crossed. “Okay so, what? They’re not dead then?” she glares balefully at her cereal bowl, the milk almost neon pink from the dyed marshmallow bits. He’s  _ definitely  _ going to have to start buying a different brand. 

“No, they’re — they’re alive,” Drake says quietly.  _ Probably,  _ he doesn’t add. 

She turns her glower on him. “Then why did you lie?” she demands. Her outraged expression flickers, like a river rushing under cracking ice. “Are they...are they mad you adopted me? You never talk about them, not ever. Is that why you’re not spending HanukkChristmas with them? ‘Cause of me?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Drake says, aghast, raising his hands to calm her. He forgets about the full mug in his hands and splatters coffee on the tile, just barely missing his shirt. “Dang it  — Gosalyn, sweetheart, why would ever think that?” he says, carelessly setting his mug down (and splashing more coffee on the table) as he falls into the seat beside her. 

Gosalyn sniffs harshly, in that way she does when she’s definitely not crying, _ leave me alone, Dad _ and rubs her eyes hard enough with the heel of her palm to nearly gouge them out altogether. 

“I dunno,” she mumbles, bringing her knees up to her chest on the edge of her chair. “I mean...you lied about your family being  _ dead, _ Dad. Why—why would you do that?”

Drake heaves a sigh that leaves him feeling hollow. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, made slightly awkward by sitting in different chairs. But his clever Gosalyn solves their dilemma by simply climbing into his lap. Smoothing a hand over her curly hair, he wills the words he’s worked on for six months to come unstuck from the roof of his beak. 

“Okay,” he whispers. “Sweetheart, your Grandpa he—he loved you, you know that right?” 

Gosalyn goes still at the mention of Waddlemeyer, but nods against Drake’s chest after a moment. “He told me all the time,” she says, quiet at first and then in a burst of shaky giggles, “Once I broke a window by accident and he said ‘I love you but you’re in so much trouble right now’.”

Drake hugs her just a little bit tighter. “And I’m so glad you had each other, kiddo. I’m—Im  _ grateful  _ that you had him. Because sometimes we don’t get to choose our families and the one we’re born into sometimes isn’t...isn’t good.”

Gosalyn leans out of his embrace to look him in the eye, her own a little red and puffy. Drake’s eyes are dry, because he’s long since used up what little reserve of tears he had to spare for them. 

“Is your family not good?” she asks quietly. 

He musters a smile. “Got it in one. Only, they’re not my family, not really. They never respected how I presented, who I loved. And I realized that they never would. So about ten years ago I decided to leave, and I did.”

Gosalyn looks up at him with wide eyes. “Did you ever see them again?”

“Nope,” Drake replies, popping the ‘P’. “Because they weren’t really my family. A real family accepts you and loves you for who you are, no matter what. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling. “Like our family,”

Drake chuckles, breathing a sigh as what feels as if a fifty pound weight has been lifted off his chest. “Yes, like our family. Our family, with your fifteen aunts and uncles, twenty cousins—”

“There aren’t that many!” Gosalyn chides, laughing. 

“—and at least one ghost butler; do you realize how much of a pain it’ll be buying gifts for every single one of them?” Drake goes on theatrically, utterly undeterred. 

“I’ve never had a HanukkChristmas with so many people,” Gosalyn gushes. “Or a HanukkChristmas at all. Do you think I’ll get a lot of presents?”

“Probably,” Drake says, laughing. He sweeps Gosalyn’s bangs away from her eyes. “But, but sweetheart, you understand what I’m saying, right? About what it means to be family?”

Gosalyn settles. “Yeah, Dad,” she says, before burying her face against his chest in a tight hug. “I’m sorry they treated you so bad,” she mumbles against his shirt. “They’re shitty.”

“Language!” Drake immediately blurts, but he’s laughing as he says it, and tears spring into the corners of his eyes. 

_ “Sorry,” _ Gosalyn says exaggeratedly. “They’re ‘sucky.’ Is that better?”

“Much,” Drake replies, dropping a kiss onto her hair. “And you know, Gos, if there’s ever anything you want to tell me, anything at all, I don’t want you to be afraid to come to me, okay? You’re my daughter and I love you.”

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I killed a guy and have been hiding his body in my closet?”

“Yes, now would be a very bad time.”

“Hmm, okay,” Gosalyn says, but keeps her face hidden against his chest. 

Drake squeezes her shoulder, a little perturbed. “Sweetheart,  _ is  _ there something you want to tell me?”

“No,” she says at once. “Maybe.”

“Gos.”

She turns her head so she’s no longer smothering herself, pressing her cheek almost directly over his heart. “I love having a big family and getting to meet all the guys and Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Scrooge’s much cooler girlfriend but...but I’d be happy if it was just you, me and Launchpad, too. Is that...okay?”

Drake fights against the sting of tears in earnest now. “Of course, Gos. I never thought I’d have a family again until we met. Adopting you was the happiest day of my life. If it was just us three against the world, I’d be happy.”

“Yeah?” Gosalyn asks quietly. 

Drake wraps her up tight in his arms. “Super yeah. And if Launchpad stopped lurking in the hall he’d be able to get in on this hug and tell you the same thing.”

“I was trying to give you guys some privacy!” Launchpad says, his voice preceding him into the kitchen. 

Gosalyn giggles. Drake rolls his eyes. 

“What privacy? You’re part of this family too,” Drake says, reaching for Launchpad with one hand. He hooks his fingers in Launchpad’s shirt and yanks him into Gosalyn’s vacated seat beside them. 

Launchpad falls ungainly into the chair, laughing all the while. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around Drake and Gosalyn both, gathering them close in a way that provides Drake with the final measure of peace he needed. 

“Hey, why’s this milk pink?” Launchpad asks. 

Drake groans. “Don’t ask.”


End file.
